


Broken

by Klaineaholic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Felching, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, I write dark shit, Psychological Torture, Sex Used As A Torture Device, Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaineaholic/pseuds/Klaineaholic
Summary: Meg’s pride takes a hit when Crowley comes up with a new form of torture.





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Transitioning my works over from Tumblr, and this is the first. It's dark, and I'm not sorry about it.

Meg wonders if Crowley will ever tire of her stubbornness, of torturing her without the reward of information or the satisfaction of her tears. Or at least, she used to wonder.

Now she knows that when she holds out long enough, he breaks. Meg gets a reprieve from the steaming burns that holy water mixed with salt imprints on her skin and the scorching pain from the discarded angel blade Crowley managed to pick up somewhere. Instead, her pride and dignity take a beating.

“And how is the whore of the night, hmm?”

The rope rubs against Meg’s wrists and ankles, holding them stiff against the metal A-frame sawhorse she’s bent over. The top of the frame digs into her bare sternum and pelvic bone, but she’s bound tight enough that shifting around is impossible.

“Surprisingly, I’ve been better.”

Crowley tuts disapprovingly. “We can use the iron frame if you’d prefer.”

“Please, don’t stop on my account.”

Crowley continues thrusting a steady rhythm into her ass, and Meg grimaces at the resistance her muscles give. She tightens her jaw, doubling down on the hold her teeth have on her tongue so no errant sounds break free.

He loves when she moans and groans, but Meg’s too proud to hand that over easily.

When he comes she’s not expecting it, but even more than that she isn’t ready for his lips to circle her hole and suck out what he just spilled in. It’s jarring enough that she cries out, and damn it if she can’t feel the bastard smirk between her ass cheeks.

Meg’s face heats at the way her pussy clenches around air. She tries to will her wetness away before Crowley notices, but his thumb circles around her lips and is soon coated with it.

“My, my,” he rasps, “enjoying ourselves, are we?” His thumb slides in, twists, and presses against her walls before he drags it back out, agonizingly slow. Meg bites down on a grunt that almost slips out.

Crowley doesn’t care whether or not Meg is enjoying herself. He wants to knock her down a peg or ten, and keeping her on the rack hasn’t done the job yet. Meg may think resorting to sex was a lapse in judgment on his part, but Crowley’s not an idiot — he knows she yields more this way so she can catch a break from the salt and the iron and the holy water.

Over the centuries Crowley has learned the line between pleasure and pain is thin. Toeing that line, playing with those boundaries has taught him that he can break someone just as thoroughly with ecstasy as he can with torture.

And that’s exactly what he plans to do.

“Meg, whatever will all the other demons say when they hear about all the nasty things your cunt starts dripping for?”

“Can you even stomach telling them you tried those nasty things on me yourself?” Meg’s voice is breathier than she’d like it to be, but she has to be quick to retort when Crowley is provoking her like he is. 

“Oh I won’t be the one sharing your dirty fantasies.” Crowley slides three fingers into Meg, watches her back rise off the A-frame when she breathes in sharply, and continues, “No, I think my whore is going to tell them all on her own. Won’t you?”

Meg tenses up everywhere, tries to fight off the looming orgasm that’s threatening to crash through her common sense. Crowley is stroking one spot over and over before he starts on her clit, and Meg almost chokes at the intensity of the feeling.

Before she can reign it in, Crowley picks up speed and the pressure in her cunt snaps. Her come squirts out onto Crowley’s hand and the floor, and Meg heaves out a sob from the sudden relief that her bones feel.

“There’s my whore,” Crowley murmurs, all pleased and smug. He lays a light smack on her ass and walks to another end of the room out of Meg’s line of sight.

When he reappears, he’s carrying a camera with a red light that blinks at Meg mockingly. She ducks her head away and Crowley chuckles. Meg feels sick, clammy and sweaty all at once with a knot in her gut that won’t go away.

“No need to be camera-shy now,” Crowley says. He grips her jaw so her face is level with his cock. “We’ve only just begun.”

She reluctantly opens her mouth, eyes shining with unshed tears, face red and blotchy from her humiliation. She looks good like this, Crowley thinks as he aims the camera toward his cock disappearing between her lips. Like she was made for him to break.


End file.
